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Wolf Rising (SWAT: Special Wolf Alpha Team #8) Page 29
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It was Jayna who answered. “Curtis was careful to avoid calling any of the men himself, and apparently, he wouldn’t let them call him, either.” She tucked her long hair behind her ear. “We know that for sure, because Eric tapped his home phone and cloned the SIM card on his cell. The four guys from the prison weren’t as careful. They’ve been calling, texting, and emailing each other for the past two weeks.” She shook her head. “You’d think a bunch of ex-cops would be smarter than to put stuff out there like that, but then again, they did get caught for stealing stolen property from their own evidence room. So I guess they’re not that bright.”
“Regardless,” Becker added, “we have more than enough evidence to directly connect these four—and Curtis—to the prison break. I’ve already made sure the U.S. Marshals stumble across everything we found in a way that will make it completely legal in court. As soon as those four guys are picked up by the feds, one of them is going to flip on the others and hopefully on Curtis, too.”
“That’s all great,” Zane said. “But did you find anything that will lead us back to the hunters?”
Jayden had told Selena that Zane had been injured by the hunters. He wouldn’t give her any details, saying that was Zane’s story to tell, but she knew the British werewolf hated the hunters and wanted them to pay for what they’d done.
“Not yet.” Becker’s voice was rueful. “I’m still working on it.”
“Or we could talk to someone who obviously knows all about the hunters and see what he’s willing to tell us,” Gage said, his voice low and menacing.
Selena followed Gage’s gaze to the older man still talking with Max and Lana. Besides the werewolves from the Pack, a few other wedding guests were still in the tent as well, along with the caterers, who were currently cleaning up the place. A moment later, the older man started toward the exit.
“That’s Curtis?” Selena asked.
“Yes,” Jayden said, giving her hand a squeeze before releasing it and falling into step beside Gage as his boss headed across the tent.
Selena hurried to catch up with him. Jayden didn’t slow as he caught her hand and tugged her protectively behind him. Zane slipped ahead of her, so that they were both shielding her. She knew Jayden was doing it because he cared about her, but her werewolf side didn’t like it. He was her mate, and she had a crazy urge to be the one protecting him, even though he was obviously much stronger and a more experienced fighter than she’d ever be.
Max and Lana met them halfway, their faces tense.
“Curtis is the one I heard over the telephone talking to the hunter during the attack at the clinic,” Lana said quickly. “I’m sure of it.”
Gage nodded, not bothering to tell her they already knew that, and continued after the man. “Chief Curtis.”
The man stopped and turned, his eyes narrowing at Gage and the rest of them. “What can I help you with, Sergeant Dixon?” He glanced down at his watch before locking eyes with the SWAT team leader. “I was just leaving.”
“We know you helped those men break out of Coffield,” Gage said.
Curtis’s heart sped up, but his expression never changed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had nothing to do with those men escaping custody.”
Selena’s instincts told her the man was lying his ass off.
“Really?” Gage said. “That’s funny, because the marshals already have phone and email records from your four buddies. You know, those former cops who used to work for you in the North Central Division? You should have hired people smart enough to not mention your name over and over online.”
Curtis regarded them thoughtfully. “If that’s true, why are you the one talking to me instead of the marshals?”
“We wanted to ask you a few questions first,” Jayden said. “Who knows? Maybe we can put in a good word for you with the marshals.”
“And what could I possibly tell you?” Curtis asked.
“The name of the man in charge of the hunters,” Gage told him.
Selena expected him to deny it like he had the previous accusation, but Curtis snorted. “Now why the hell would I ever tell you that?”
“Because after we bite you and turn you into one of us, you’re going to need our protection when they come after you,” Jayden growled.
Selena knew the threat was an empty one. Jayden had told her a bite from a werewolf wouldn’t do anything except hurt. You’d never know that from the threat of violence in Jayden’s voice, though.
Curtis laughed, not even a little bit frightened. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to be one of you mangy mutts.”
Pulling a pistol out of his jacket, he pointed it at Jayden and squeezed the trigger before any of them could so much as blink.
Selena opened her mouth to scream when an explosion from outside shook the tent. A split second later, a man in a caterer uniform stepped into the open doorway of the tent with an automatic rifle and started shooting.
* * *
Brooks knew he’d been hit with a poison bullet before he even stumbled back. The odor of the synthetic wolfsbane was impossible to miss. Ignoring the pain he knew was coming, he twisted himself around to protect Selena.
Everything went insane as he grabbed her, automatic weapons fire coming from all around them as another explosion rocked the compound. The softer pop of pistol fire immediately followed. Brooks had no idea who was shooting at whom when another round slammed into the back of his thigh as he dragged Selena down to the ground and shielded her body.
A voice in the back of his head noted that while the hunters’ bullets definitely burned like hell, the pain wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it should have been. It also wasn’t getting worse like it had with Zane. Dr. Saunders’s vaccine must be working. That was a relief.
Instinct demanded he grab the small frame .40 caliber he had strapped to his right ankle, find out who was shooting at them, and kill those people. But he couldn’t. While the synthetic wolfsbane in the bullets wouldn’t kill him or any other werewolf there, Selena hadn’t gotten the vaccine yet. He couldn’t leave her unprotected and risk her getting hit. He heard her growling under him, her heart thumping in near panic as she tried to work herself free. He held onto her more tightly. He needed to protect her from the omega inside her just as much as from the hunters.
Zane suddenly appeared, crouching at his side. “Let me have her. The hunters think you’re the alpha of the Pack, which means you’re putting her in more danger. I can’t fight them, but I can protect her.”
The idea of letting Selena go ripped a growl from his throat, but when he saw the number of armed men pointing weapons in his direction, he realized his friend was right.
“Stay with Zane,” he told her, yanking his Glock out as he jumped to his feet.
As he ran, Brooks heard Selena snarling, trying to escape Zane’s hold, but his packmate refused to let her go. More importantly, the moment he started moving, the hunters, dressed in the white-and-black uniforms of the catering crew, adjusted their aim to follow him. Zane was right. He was their primary target. The faster he got away from Selena, the safer she’d be.
Popping off shots in the hunters’ direction, Brooks took in the situation as he ran across the tent toward the main entrance, ignoring the sting as several more bullets hit him. The human wedding guests who’d been trapped in the tent when the shooting started were either hugging the floor or trying to hide under the tables, including Lana’s parents. Gage was down on the floor as well, protecting Mac with his body. Curtis was long gone, far enough away that Brooks could no longer pick up an active scent. Trevor, Hale, Carter, and Max were standing guard over Lana, slowly and carefully putting down one target after another with their own backup weapons. All four of his packmates had been hit multiple times, but that didn’t slow them down.
Smaller explosions echoed outside the tent as two more hunters ran in, their rifles held high as they assessed the situation. Brooks didn’t recognize the first guy, but the second o
ne through the door was very familiar—Seth Oliver.
Oliver’s eyes widened when he saw that Brooks and his packmates were alive. The same couldn’t be said of his fellow hunters around the tent. Those men wouldn’t be getting back up again. Brooks didn’t know if Oliver was more surprised that their poison bullets didn’t work this time or that the Pack had been carrying backup weapons during a wedding reception.
The man locked eyes with Brooks for half a second, then he turned and fled. Brooks chased him outside only to slow a bit as he took in the violence going on around the rest of the darkened SWAT compound.
Brooks had never been in the military, but he imagined this was what a war zone looked like. Wedding guests were running all over the place, trying to get out of the compound. There was the flash and pop of automatic weapons fire coming from the direction of the main admin building and growling and shouting from over near the volleyball court. In addition, a bomb had taken out the front side of the armory building, which was currently on fire. The hunters had tried to destroy the armory, probably hoping to keep them from reaching any of their weapons.
Brooks ignored all of that as he caught sight of Oliver running toward a line of SUVs parked outside the front gate of the compound. He threw a quick look at the fighting going on over near the main building, noting that the gunfire had already slowed drastically. The battle there was almost over. He only hoped the Pack was winning it.
He took off after Oliver, refusing to let the asshole get away this time. But as he got closer to the vehicles, Brooks realized Oliver wasn’t the only hunter beating a retreat. There were four other men heading toward the SUVs, the one going for the driver’s side limping badly. Brooks smelled the scent of blood and fear pouring off them, and he changed course slightly, turning aside to go after the four random hunters instead of Oliver. He hated Oliver, but taking down four hunters made more sense from a mathematical point of view.
But then he saw Rachel loping after the four men, a small double-action .380 handgun held low at her side, her eyes glowing vivid green as she tracked after her prey. Baring her fangs, she lifted her weapon and aimed for the injured driver.
Brooks turned his attention to Oliver, running faster as the hunter jumped behind the wheel and gunned the engine to life like his life depended on getting away—which it did. The SUV started to pull forward, but Brooks didn’t care. He was stopping the man, no matter what.
Just as he tucked his shoulder and prepared to ram the SUV off the road, he caught Selena’s scent, quickly followed by Zane’s. He glanced over his shoulder to see Selena coming toward him, her eyes glowing blue. Zane was right behind her, trying to catch up.
A growl to his right caught Brooks’s attention, and he looked over to see Rachel standing near the perimeter fence, her weapon still aimed at the injured hunter. Brooks waited for her to pull the trigger, but she didn’t. Instead, she and the hunter stared at each other, confusion on both of their faces. A split second later, the hunter leaped into the SUV and took off. Brooks didn’t know why, but for whatever reason, Rachel had not taken the shot.
It was too late for Brooks to change course and go after the vehicle with the four hunters now. He was committed to Oliver’s SUV.
Brooks hit the front quarter panel right behind the wheel at full speed. The impact was so violent, he felt multiple bones crack, but he ignored them. The vehicle was big, but he’d hit with a shitload of force, and the nose of the SUV went up and sideways, almost going over as it slid across the narrow street along the front of the compound and into the ditch on the far side.
He punched through the glass of the driver’s window, gripping the frame and ripping the door off, then pulling Oliver out and throwing him to the ground.
“I can tell you stuff about the hunters,” Oliver said urgently, scrambling to his feet and trying to back up even as he attempted to line up a shot at Brooks’s head. “I know who the man in charge is. I know where you can find him.”
Brooks reached out to smack the gun from Oliver’s hand when Selena arrived in the form of a growling blue-eyed blur that slammed into Oliver’s chest so hard, Brooks heard bones crack.
Oliver bounced off the front of the SUV, his weapon coming up again but pointed at Selena this time.
Shit.
Heart pounding, Brooks lunged, grabbing Oliver and snapping his neck before he could pull the trigger. Gage almost certainly would have preferred letting the man live long enough to tell them about the hunters, but that simply hadn’t been an option.
Brooks pulled Selena into his arms, making soft shushing sounds as he attempted to calm her down. She held on to him tightly, her face pressed against his chest.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
He glanced at Zane, who shook his head.
“She wiggled loose,” Zane said. “She’s a lot stronger than a werewolf her size should be, and she was freaked out worrying about you.”
“It’s okay,” Brooks murmured again, using the same calming tones on Zane as he had on Selena. “It’s all going to be okay now. No harm, no foul.”
Zane nodded, even though he still looked embarrassed as hell.
Brooks sighed, listening to Selena’s heartbeat slow to normal as the tension drained from her body. He couldn’t see her eyes, so he wasn’t completely sure, but something told him they were no longer blue. That was good. She’d gotten herself under control quickly.
He looked around, realizing the shooting had stopped. He could make out a few members of the Pack moving about, checking on wedding guests. The hunters had come at them again, with a coordinated, targeted assassination attempt, and Curtis had been a part of it.
But while the assholes had done a lot of violence and made one hell of a mess, the Pack had come out on top. Some of the hunters had gotten away. In fact, Rachel was still where she’d been watching the other vehicle’s taillights disappear into the distance. Oliver was dead, though, and there were a lot less hunters in the world than there used to be.
The battle looked like it was over for tonight.
Then Brooks heard the sound of approaching sirens, and he realized this evening was just getting started.
Chapter 19
“The rear loading dock is all clear,” Brooks whispered into the radio, as he, Connor, and Diego slipped between the three tractor trailer trucks parked behind the Sovereign Row industrial building and headed for the big roll-up doors that lined the side of the place. Two of those doors were wide open, but it didn’t help much. Between the awful rattle and clank of conveyor belts and the harsh, burning stench of chemicals, Brooks couldn’t say if there was one person in the warehouse or twenty.
“Front lobby is clear, too,” Trey said into his earpiece. “Ready to move when you give the word.”
Trey, Remy, and several members of the small task force entry team had headed for the main entrance a few minutes ago. They all assumed there’d be at least one gang member there standing guard, but apparently, the new gang boss was getting cocky.
“Side door is locked,” Ray said over the radio. “Give us a second.”
Brooks motioned his teammates behind the trucks, glancing at his watch as they waited for Ray to give the word. As they crouched down beside a trailer up close to the loading dock, where it was unlikely anyone would see them, he glanced at his guys, noticing how tired they looked. The attack on the SWAT compound last night had taken a lot out of everyone.
Trey and Alex had spent hours digging bullets out of every member of the Pack and each other. The synthetic wolfsbane wasn’t deadly to them any longer, thanks to the vaccine, but that didn’t mean it was fun getting shot with it. Their bodies still had to detox the crap out of their systems, reminding Brooks a lot of what it used to feel like to be hungover. He decided it wasn’t anything he missed.
Beside him, Connor leaned against the trailer and closed his eyes. Brooks moved a little closer in case he had to catch his packmate before he face-planted on the concret
e. Connor was functioning on little more than adrenaline fumes at the moment and probably shouldn’t have even been on the raid, but there was no one to take his place. The truth of the matter was that everyone on the team was just as exhausted right now.
Last night had been filled with a steady stream of questions from Internal Affairs, the city manager, half the city council, and the U.S. Marshals. As if that wasn’t enough, then the frigging FBI had shown up. Because apparently the whole thing had looked like a terrorist attack to them.
Not that Brooks was surprised to see so many high-ranking people on the scene. It wasn’t every day the chief of police of a major U.S. city attempted to assassinate members of his own SWAT team. Then there was Curtis’s alleged involvement in the prison break. That didn’t go over well with the city officials either.
And everyone from each of the aforementioned agencies had wanted to know what the hell had happened at the compound. Why would the chief of police want to kill them? What did SWAT know about the prison break? Who the hell were all the dead people with automatic weapons? How did Oliver end up with a broken neck? Why was there so much blood everywhere but so few wounded cops?
Brooks and his teammates had dealt with situations like this before—maybe not on this scale—so they had experience covering for the strange things that happened to them. They kept their stories simple and to the point and never elaborated on anything. That had earned them a lot of dubious looks, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to suspect they were werewolves.
The marathon interrogation session hadn’t ended until around nine o’clock that morning. Even then, there’d been no rest for any of them. Half the team had been sent out to provide SWAT support to the cops responding to all the hotline tips coming in claiming to know where Curtis, Frasheri, Engler, and the four hunters who escaped might be. The other half of the team had started digging out the armory building, recovering as many weapons and pieces of equipment as they could. It had been miserable, dirty, smelly work, but it had to be done. Without the weapons in that armory, they were nearly worthless to the department. By the time they were done, Brooks had reeked. Even after showering twice, he still smelled like smoke and ashes.